


before/after

by Lorakeet



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dirty Talk, Feminization, M/M, Multi, Panty Kink, Pet Names, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, also shitty working title is shitty comment better ones, and this is definitely the kinkiest thing ive ever written, just take it so i can be done with it, kind of, no legally blonde references DYLAN, pls be gentle i havent written porn in like.................6yrs, this monster has been staring me down ever time i opened google docs for a MONTH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 00:51:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15740760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorakeet/pseuds/Lorakeet
Summary: Kuroo thinks he’d be a pretty girl.That being said, he has no problem when Bokuto and Daichi welcome him home with teeth pressed to his neck and heated whispers that send shivers up his spine, telling him, “go get ready for us, sweetheart” and “we laid some things out for you upstairs—show us how pretty you are, yeah?”.—Or, Kuroo likes feminine clothing, and trying new things with his boyfriends.





	before/after

**Author's Note:**

  * For [platinumbered](https://archiveofourown.org/users/platinumbered/gifts).



> fic ideas 101:  
> 1) be at work, not busy even though it's supposed to be one of the busiest days of the year  
> 2) text your sib  
> 3) bounce ideas for bokukurodai porn  
> 4) inspiration, and a challenge ("if you dont write it, then i will" "fuck you fine ill write it")  
> (4.5) sit on a very tall makeshift throne of plastic 2ltr pepsi cartons and write 1.5k before not touching it again for a full 6mos, and then take a FULL 2yrs to actually finish the damn thing)
> 
> now you can stop bugging me about finishing it, asshole.

 

 

Kuroo thinks he’d be a pretty girl.

He knows he has miles of leg and looks ethereal with winged eyeliner, especially when he wears his glasses. It’s not egotism when he says he looks pretty damn good in feminine clothing either—he’s worn a yoga tank with a skater skirt and leggings to practice once or twice, and his boyfriends weren’t the only ones staring.

(Which is saying something, honestly, because to his knowledge, he, Bokuto, and Daichi are the only queer ones on their university team.)

All that being said, he has no problem when Bokuto and Daichi welcome him home with teeth pressed to his neck and heated whispers that send shivers up his spine, telling him, “go get ready for us, sweetheart” and “we laid some things out for you upstairs—show us how pretty you are, yeah?”.

His legs are loose and uncoordinated as he stumbles up to their bedroom, eyelashes fluttering and throat bobbing when he sees the dark red skirt laid out on the bed for him.

The thigh-highs are new, though, solid black with cat ears and a set of whiskers near the top of each one. The crop top is making its first appearance as well, black sleeveless lycra that spells out “whatever” in white varsity letters across the front.

The panties laying out next to the rest of the clothing, however, are exceedingly familiar.

Kuroo damn near rips his pants in his urgency to get them _off_ , unbuttoning them sloppily, cursing when the zipper gets stuck on his boxers. He winces, shivering at the shock of raw sensitivity when his wrist presses briefly into the bulge testing the half-open zipper.

He stands there gasping for a moment, swept up in the intensity of it all. Here he is, getting all cute with _both_ of his boyfriends downstairs, who are ready to entirely _shatter_ the thin layer of composure Kuroo is barely holding in place.

Kuroo rips his shirt off over his head, shoves his boxers down his legs at hyperspeed, and nearly trips while trying to step out of them. Naked, he pauses at the panties, wondering how the fuck he was going to fit all of his...everything in those.

Kuroo thinks, fuck it, if Daichi can fit all of his Quad God glory into tiny underwear, then Kuroo can damn well fit his flat ass and narrow hips in just the same. He slides the fabric up over his ass, and it stretches easily, though it seems to struggle a bit with his arousal. He doesn’t blame it—that’s something Kuroo is struggling with too.

Snickering at his brain’s idle activity, Kuroo pulls the crop top over his head, letting it cradle his ribs gently while he persuades the skirt’s peskily non-elastic waistband up over his hips and surveys the thigh-highs.

Even though Kuroo owns a surprising amount of feminine clothing, he doesn’t have any tights, so this is new for him. He slides them carefully up his legs, basking in how smooth they feel.

He turns to see the finished look in the mirror, and _damn,_ his legs look edible like this. Kuroo shifts, fidgeting uncomfortably when his length twitches behind the soft cotton of the panties as his thoughts wander to the marks Bokuto will want to leave on his thighs when he gets downstairs.

“Kuroo?” he hears, and realises it’s been a full ten minutes since he got up here.

“Let a girl get prettied up, geez,” he yells back playfully, getting quiet chuckles in return. On an impulse, he fishes his liquid eyeliner and mascara out of his makeup box, and does the thirty-second version of eye makeup, with half-decent results.

Unable to resist, Kuroo digs his phone out of the discarded pants pocket on the floor, and snaps a selfie or two. He pulls up Snapchat, taking one more, in the mirror this time, and captioning it “before” with a smirky face and the typical eggplant-and-sweatdrops ‘I’m gonna get laid’ combo. He shoots it off to Oikawa with a grin, and doesn’t wait for a reply.

Daichi and Bokuto are making out on the couch when he sneaks downstairs, their hands and tongues wandering playfully. Kuroo sighs sweetly at the way they look together, all muscles and firmness, and their _thighs_ , Jesus, Daichi’s _ass_.

Daichi is perched in Bokuto’s lap, his knees bent so that he can tuck his toes back between Bokuto’s thighs and spread his own legs wider. The image makes Kuroo smile, a curl of innocence in the otherwise lewd scene.

Bokuto’s eyes flick to Kuroo, and Kuroo can see Daichi’s lips curl right before he sinks his teeth into the skin right over his jugular and drags their hips together roughly. Bokuto groans, lashes fluttering and thighs tensing deliciously while the sound echoes quietly between Daichi and Kuroo.

His tone is breathy and cute as he taps Daichi’s hip to ask him to move. “Jesus, Daichi, you’re gonna need to let up if we’re gonna make it all the way to what we have planned.”

Wait.

“‘Planned’?” Kuroo asks, head tilting.

When Daichi stands all the way back up ( _god,_ Kuroo is _blessed_ with those legs), he stalks over, darkness in his eyes and that damned smirk still riding his lips. Kuroo feels shivers parading through him as his dick twitches. “Planned. You didn’t think we’d have you get all trussed up and pretty for us just to leave you high and dry, right?”

Kuroo blushes. “I mean—”

Bokuto shifts on the couch, leaning so he can see Kuroo over Daichi’s shoulder. “That short on faith, huh?” He snickers, menacing. “How ‘bout you come over here and we show you exactly what we mean by ‘planned’.”

A swallow bobs Kuroo’s Adam’s apple as Daichi’s fingers wrap steadily around Kuroo’s bicep, and he is led to the couch.

“You even put on makeup for us—what a sweetheart.” Bokuto’s eyes skitter from his eyes, to his mouth, along his neck, down to the cut of his abs, and Kuroo can feel the eyes on him like fingers sliding over the dips and lines of his skin. His thighs tense, shifting his balance slightly.

Daichi chuckles into the side of his neck, leaning up slightly to nibble there. “He looks just delectable like this, doesn’t he?”

“That’s our Tetsu,” Bokuto laughs, “Delicious for every meal.”

Kuroo groans at the nickname, which only came out when his boyfriends were _serious._

Kuroo almost collapses into Bokuto’s lap, claiming the spot Daichi had occupied minutes ago. Bokuto’s hands drag up Kuroo’s sides. He twitches slightly (it tickles, okay?), and is reminded of just how hard he is when the fabric of the skirt brushes teasingly over the bulge of his dick. Kuroo squirms, hiding his face in Bokuto’s neck with a moan.

“Sensitive,” Daichi says, sitting beside them and coaxing Kuroo away from his hiding place to give him a kiss.

Bokuto hums in agreement, hands sliding to Kuroo’s butt. “Just how we like ‘im.”

Kuroo can see the caution in Daichi’s eyes, checking up, making sure Kuroo is okay. Kuroo kisses him, nodding minutely, yet quickly against his lips. He is one-hundred-percent okay with everything that is currently happening.

After receiving the assurance he needs, Daichi reaches up, tugging on Kuroo’s hair as he continues the kiss in earnest.

There is nothing slow about this kiss, besides Kuroo’s initial contact. Daichi immediately seizes control, and it turns hot and messy surprisingly fast for Daichi. He bites Kuroo’s lip almost harshly, then flicks his tongue out over it to soothe the sting. Kuroo can’t help but groan. Between this kind of attention from Daichi and the way Bokuto’s hands keep squeezing his ass, pulling their hips together, he’d finish in no more than a few minutes.

Either that, or he’d need a bit more than a little groping and grinding and a kiss or two.

As if reading his mind, Bokuto’s hands move away from Kuroo’s ass, sliding out from under his skirt and up his back to slip his fingers under the smooth fabric of Kuroo’s crop top. He tugs at it a little, until Daichi allows Kuroo to disengage long enough to slip the thin fabric up over Kuroo’s ridiculous bedhead.

Immediately, Bokuto’s mouth is on his nipples, and Kuroo sighs thinly, high in his throat.

Daichi redirects his attention from Kuroo back to Bokuto’s neck, and Kuroo would be damned if it wasn’t because he wanted to hear Kuroo’s sounds.

Bokuto’s moans buzz his lips, adding an extra layer of sensation, and coaxing Kuroo’s voice out to join Bokuto’s. He can’t help that his nipples have always been just a touch more sensitive than guys’ usually are.

A heavy sigh punches out from Daichi’s gut, and he really starts going at Bokuto’s neck.

God, Daichi marking up Bokuto is definitely near the top of Kuroo’s list of his favorite things. Bokuto pulls away from his chest (Kuroo can’t help the whine of disapproval, okay), and kisses Daichi with everything he has.

Everything except his hands, really.

Kuroo feels his fingers ghosting their way back under the hem of his skirt. The texture of Bokuto’s palm drags enticingly up over the firmness of his quads. The fingers tease deliberately over the bulging curve of Kuroo’s underwear. Kuroo hisses. Bokuto smiles against Daichi’s lips.

Again with the kissing and groping.

Kuroo tries to relieve himself just a bit, resting his head on Bokuto’s shoulder and pushing his hips up into Bokuto’s teasing glances of touch. Of course, Bokuto is good at reading Kuroo’s movements, and also a _tease_ , so the touch is kept delicate and glaringly _not enough_ , no matter how much Kuroo bucks. Once again, Kuroo can’t help the sound making its way from between his teeth.

“Leaving me out is rude, you—” A hand breaks his train of thought. “— _god_.”

Daichi openly laughs. “Bokuto’s definitely good with his hands, but I don’t know if that warrants deity status.”

“No, no,” Bokuto smirks, “Let him talk.”

Really though, Kuroo isn’t really up to talking, considering that Bokuto’s touches have progressed from teasing at best to shoving the panties aside, and wrapping his fingers around Kuroo’s dick. Because Bokuto’s hand is moving so slow, Kuroo really shouldn’t be feeling this good, but after that kind of leadup—heated whispers, getting all prettied up, and now _this_ —he thinks he should be given a pass.

Bokuto’s hand keeps moving, gently picking up speed, intentionally or not. Shuddering breaths pass mutedly into Bokuto’s shoulder until his fingers move just so, and Kuroo is throwing his head back, keening tightly. Kuroo hears the moan echo, starting in Daichi’s throat and ending in Bokuto’s.

“Shit,” Daichi grits out on a tremoring gust of breath, accompanied by a similarly airy laugh from Bokuto. “Bedroom?”

“Fuck yeah. Up,” Bokuto taps at Kuroo similarly to how he tapped Daichi earlier. Kuroo shifts his legs to the floor, and Daichi pulls him up, steadying him. Bokuto stands after both of them, smacking both their asses on his way past. “First one to the bedroom gets to pick!”

 _Pick what?_ a distant voice echoes in Kuroo’s mind.

Daichi laughs, full-bodied and _cute_. “You say that like you won’t just pick the opposite of what I want.”

“True,” Bokuto says, voice muffled by the walls between them, “but I’ll also get all the glory and honor associated with victory!”

Kuroo is still most definitely lost, but this, he understands.”What a dumbass owl.”

This time, Daichi laughs a bit more quietly, but he makes up for the lack of volume with a tender sigh and a smile. “Yeah...but fuck if I don’t love him.”

Kuroo feels his expression mirror Daichi's. “Relatable.”

He snickers at Daichi's eyeroll.

“What’s taking you guys so long? Race, remember?”

That shakes Daichi, and he’s out of sight before Kuroo can even register that Bokuto might not have been kidding.

He struts to the bedroom and leans against the doorframe like he usually does when his boyfriends are already on the bed, making out, sleeping, studying, doing whatever else boyfriends do in bed together.

“Guess I lost, huh?” Daichi and Bokuto are looking at him like he hung the moon, and they want to show him exactly what that means to them. That, in itself, warrants a bit of melting. “Who’s picking what? Do I get an option?”

Daichi ‘hm’s softly with a wink. “I promise—at the very least, you won’t be disappointed.”

Damn if Kuroo doesn’t like the sound of that.

Two sets of hands pull him to bed, so he’s straddling Bokuto with Daichi at his side, similar to how they were positioned before. Daichi’s soft kisses trail down to his collarbone, nibbling slightly as Bokuto fumbles back under Kuroo’s underwear. Kuroo sighs and feels his dick twitch at the attention. Bokuto’s abs shift delectably under his palms.

Daichi’s tongue trails up Kuroo’s neck and he nibbles at his earlobe before kissing Bokuto, mumbling something into Bokuto’s mouth, incoherent to Kuroo’s ears.

“Fuck yeah,” Bokuto grins, pulling away and kissing Kuroo’s forehead. “Ready, babe?”

Kuroo’s response is immediate. “Yes." He pauses. "What am I ready for?”

“This.” In a swift movement, Kuroo is on his back, and Daichi is on top of him, yanking the panties clear down to Kuroo’s ankles, letting his erection tent the loose fabric of the skirt properly, leaving only that and thigh highs to cover him. He shivers, from both the cool air on his skin and the treatment he’s receiving.

“Fuck,” Bokuto groans, “His _legs_ …”

Kuroo chuckles, barely more than heated pants of breath. Bokuto shifts himself so he’s by Kuroo’s lower half, and presses wet kisses up and down the exposed stretch of Kuroo’s thighs. Daichi claims Kuroo’s shoulder, and Kuroo is delighted that both his boyfriends are in rather possessive moods as they both start nipping and biting at his skin, leaving it gently flushed, then purple as hickeys take shape. By the time he feels at least three distinct spots on both his legs and his neck, he’s full-on panting, thighs trembling and back arching delicately off the sheets.

Daichi climbs to his ear, murmuring, “Think you could blow me, sweetheart?”

Kuroo feels a vertebra in his neck pop because he’s nodding so hard, “Please, yeah, fuck, let me suck your dick, Daichi.”

Kuroo feels the response to his neediness against his thighs, Bokuto’s groan against his skin making him twitch even more. He moves quickly, backing off just enough to let Kuroo flip over and get his hands on Daichi’s hips.

Kuroo wrestles with Daichi’s sweatpants (Skyrim-themed, the nerd), hands scrabbling far too desperately to get anything done, until Daichi makes an executive decision, and lifts his hips to pull them off entirely.

Daichi is completely bare underneath them, and Kuroo is definitely on board with Bokuto’s thing for legs—he thanks Gay Jesus for Daichi’s legs (and every part of his two boyfriends) every day. “ _Please,_  c’mere.”

The smile on Daichi’s lips makes Kuroo shiver, caressing him like a physical touch. “Go ahead, baby.”

Kuroo sighs in relief when he finally gets Daichi’s dick in his mouth, taking it clear back to his soft palate and dragging it roughly across the roof of his mouth.

Daichi huffs a sharp breath, and Kuroo takes him deeper, using his hand to work the remainder of the base. This has always been something he’s been partial to, and with Daichi being one of his favorite people, he’s sure to enjoy himself

Kuroo continues, bobbing his head gently, being careful to drive Daichi to do exactly what he wants: to press Kuroo’s lips further down his cock with shaking hands and sounds bitten back before they can bloom fully in the heated air.

Bokuto sees Daichi’s reactions from over the curve of Kuroo’s ass and snickers. He knows just what Kuroo is trying to do.

But he also has plans of his own.

“Nice,” he drastically understates when he watches the way Kuroo’s back arches, skirt shifting slightly as Daichi tremors under the attention. He kisses the curve of Kuroo’s butt, sucking a mark to the surface of his skin. Then, unable to resist the view, he slinks closer, grinding his clothed erection against Kuroo’s ass.

Groans reverberate between the three of them in near-unison.

Kuroo pulls back a moment, slightly winded and trembling, and swivels his head around to meet Bokuto’s half-lidded sight, throat tensing around his words as his hand clenches around Daichi. “Are you gonna…?”

Something about his question makes Bokuto chuckle darkly, gaze cutting to Daichi. “What do you think, Dai? Is he ready?”

Daichi considers exaggeratedly, “Hmm, I don’t know, I think he might be.”

Kuroo is left further in the dark, despite the post-blowjob haze that’s rapidly clearing from his head. “Wh—ready for what?”

“Well,” Daichi says, “let’s just say that when we said we wanted you to try on the clothes we got you, that wasn’t the _only_ thing we were hoping for tonight.”

Something in his tone was working Kuroo up all over again, sending an electrical current of anticipation tingling through every inch of his body.

Kuroo’s throat bobs once, twice, before he murmurs, “What’s the other thing?”

Bokuto leans forward, nosing Kuroo’s ear affectionately, while his voice tastes like dark chocolate and whiskey in the back of Kuroo’s throat, sweet, with just the right amount of burn. “You see, love, Daichi is going to fuck your throat, and I’m gonna have my way with _this_.” He squeezes Kuroo’s ass, exactly like he does when he _really_ wants it clenching around him.

If Kuroo weren’t already lying down, he’d have most likely fallen over. Nearly blinded with desire, catching visceral and thick in his throat, he paws at Daichi’s hips and shakes with the force of how much he _needs_ it. After he gets his vocal cords back under control, the first words out of his mouth are a mixture of whines and nonsensical begging.

Daichi laughs, though not unkindly. “And that’s exactly the response we were hoping for too.”

Bokuto, meanwhile, manages ferality and total adoration in the same expression. “Just remember the safe system, dear.”

A picture of a stoplight blinks into Kuroo’s consciousness and away again between two thundering heartbeats.

“Green, fucking _green_ , you bastards, I _need_ it, I—” And with that, Daichi pulls Kuroo’s face up to meet his in a near-harsh kiss before urging Kuroo’s lips back around his dick. He’s shaking just as much as Kuroo when he fumbles the lube out of the nightstand drawer, hefting it clumsily at Bokuto.

Bokuto notices his unusually erratic movements, and murmurs, “That goes for you too, Dai. Just say the word.”

“I’m good, I’m good.” He bites down on a gasp, a sound that makes Bokuto twitch against Kuroo’s ass, which in turn makes him arch back slightly to feel more. “You heard him, Kou. Go for it.”

A sly smile plays Bokuto’s lips and the snap of the cap reverberates quietly. Bokuto warms some lube in his fingers before ghosting them against Kuroo’s hole.

Kuroo winces, jolting away from Daichi’s dick. “Damn, that shit’s cold.”

“Sorry, babe, it’ll be better in a second.” Bokuto maneuvers a single finger in, and flicks it against Kuroo’s prostate, drawing a rumbling groan that makes Daichi smile.

“Alright, come back,” he says, nudging Kuroo’s head back towards his cock. Kuroo indulges him eagerly, and now Daichi is the one moaning, low and unrestrained.

Bokuto adds another finger inside Kuroo, and swallows, both in arousal and nervousness. Everything past this point is uncharted territory. Spitroasting, while being something on each of their ‘to try’ lists, can be overwhelming, and none of them have had the guts to actually, well, try it.

Until now, obviously.

Watching carefully for any signs of distress, Bokuto stretches Kuroo as gently as he can manage. He opens like a dream, moaning his appreciation around Daichi’s dick, which brings a similar sound out of Daichi as payment for the extra stimulation.

Forgetting his earlier trepidation, Bokuto asks himself, _Why the fuck haven’t we done this sooner?_ His erection is throbbing in his pants, and getting more and more unbearable with each passing moment. He slips in another finger, and Kuroo must be really excited for this, because he’s opening as easily as he ever has, while still tightening and pulling Bokuto’s fingers in deeper with each twist and bump to his prostate.

Bokuto swallows again, but this time, nearly all of his earlier apprehension has abandoned him.

“Add another,” Daichi murmurs, meeting Bokuto’s eyes, half-lidded, and looking a lot like he’s the one getting fingered open. Kuroo’s breath hitches, pushing his hips back even more. If that’s not approval, then Bokuto’s clearly never seen it before.

A smile of assent from Bokuto, and Kuroo makes one of the most wanton noises Daichi and Bokuto have ever heard as he rides back into the third finger, tight and urgent, laying a foundation of sloppy kisses up and down Daichi’s length.

“Fuuuuuck.” Daichi looks like he’s seen God, or in this case, Kuroo Tetsurou begging for a good-ol’-fashioned fucking.

Daichi runs shaking fingers through Kuroo’s hair before gripping and tugging slightly. He doesn’t expect the groan he gets, and can’t help one of his own from slipping out when he feels the vibration around his cock yet again.

Bokuto is shaking, just barely, and Daichi can hear the way it’s affecting his breathing. He really wants Kuroo, just as much as Daichi does right now, and everyone in the room knows it. Daichi is sure that Kuroo would be preening if he weren’t, well, already occupied.

Kuroo shifts between them, pulling off of Daichi and turning as much as he can without getting up. “Please, Bo, I’m ready, I’m ready, please, I need you.”

The words whine out into the uncharted territory between them, and suddenly, they’re all nervous again. Horny as hell, yes, that’s practically a given, but Bokuto’s unsureness is just as infectious as the rest of his emotions. “You’re sure? ‘Cuz, really we can—”

Kuroo cuts him off before that particular thought can go much further. “I want both of you in me so badly I can barely breathe. I know what to do if it all becomes too much. But really,” He smirks at them both in turn, and _there’s_ the cockiness that’s been missing all night, surfacing around the composure he’s hanging onto with his fingernails and sheer force of will. “I have a feeling you’ll both take _real_ good care of me either way.”

And then the arrogance washes away from his demeanor like the retreating waves of an ocean, because Bokuto slides home, pressing his dick in Kuroo’s ass as far as it’ll go.

Their hips nudge together, pressing that extra little bit to put Kuroo’s face directly in Daichi’s lap. The grip around Bokuto’s cock says Kuroo has wanted this for a long time, too long even. The groan muffled only barely by Daichi’s hip just elaborates on that particular desire.

“Oh, thank god,” Kuroo pants, then shivers slightly under the new stimulation, and wraps his lips around Daichi’s cock again.

With a moan, Daichi squeezes his eyes shut for just a moment. The show his boyfriends are putting on for him is exquisite, with Bokuto’s flushed face and hooded eyes, and Kuroo’s ass shoved back against him with that damned skirt softening his whole form, softening his sharp edges in the way clothes do when they make him feel _pretty_ , not just handsome or gorgeous or even beautiful.

The sight of them together is always enchanting and even a little overwhelming, but like this, with all three of them active participants, and crucial to the happenings between them, Daichi is afraid for just a moment that he will lose himself.

He can’t come this early, he _can’t._ The fun has only just started.

So he holds in a shaky breath for just a moment longer, and clears his head as best he can.

Kuroo, who had paused for a minute after sensing Daichi’s overstimulation, smiles up at him, shifting slightly when Bokuto fucks back into him. How is his expression so full of adoration when, right now, Kuroo is the one who should be adored?

“I love you,” Daichi can’t help but choke out, “Tetsurou, Koutarou, I love you both.”

Bokuto throws his head back. “F-fuck, Daichi. I love you, too. We love you.”

Kuroo’s voice hitches around a gasp, beautifully undone. “Yes, god, I fucking love you.” He swallows, laying more sloppy kisses to Daichi’s dick, his hips, anything he can reach. “And now I’m gonna suck your cock.”

Daichi can do nothing else but moan, joined by Bokuto, who has his broad hands and fingers splayed out on Kuroo’s hips, pulling Kuroo back into his own lap, then pushing him forward onto Daichi’s. Kuroo sucks just right, and Daichi can’t help the reflexive tilt of his hips into Kuroo’s mouth. Kuroo, being someone who loves having his mouth fucked, hums around him, sucking harder, the sheets curling around his fingers as he grips them like his life depends on it.

Bokuto sighs around a “fuck yeah” as Kuroo tightens around him, and he fucks Kuroo’s ass harder.

Bokuto pants, and Daichi knows everyone, including Daichi himself, is close.

(Which makes this an unusually short romp for them; considering their volleyball-given stamina that carries over to the bedroom, sex can last for hours. Daichi supposes that they can chalk up their collective short fuse to a new experience, though, so no one takes a shot to the gut.)

“Fuck his mouth, Daichi.” The command in Bokuto’s voice sounds not unlike the voice he has used to call for the final toss of a five-set championship match that they’re about to win. Daichi will be lucky if he’ll ever be able to hear it again, and not get hard in his shorts.

He complies, and the way Kuroo’s throat tightens around him betrays his enjoyment of being fucked by two people at once.

Bokuto and Daichi do their best to alternate their thrusts, and Kuroo can’t help the sounds he knows he’s making. It’s all just so _good_. Bokuto’s dick in his ass, Daichi’s down his throat, both of them taking him exactly the way they want is just...amazing. White creeps into the corners of his vision as he gets closer and closer to the peak, feeling the orgasm build up like the rumble of an engine inside him, working harder and harder.

Finally, _finally_ , the tension ebbs just enough, and orgasm shocks through Kuroo, cum pooling in the folds of his skirt and on the rumpled sheets beneath him, and the warmth of release crashing through his limbs, all the way to his fingers and toes. He can do nothing but shake under the force of it, a mess of motion and silence as it robs him of his breath and thought as he goes to pieces beneath it.

Daichi is next, because watching Kuroo shiver apart like that throws _several_ switches in his gut, so he can’t help but pull back just enough, and come with a tremoring groan. Kuroo is a dream, swallowing almost delicately around him. A minute jumps by, and Daichi leans down, kissing him gently, taking his face between his palms and bumping their noses together. He can’t help but murmur quiet praises and smile at the tang of his own cum on Kuroo’s puffy lips.

“You’re so fucking good for us, baby,” Bokuto rumbles, and his hips are more erratic than they were just minutes ago, until the sweetest look of concentration puts a crease in his brow, and his lips part around a strained “I’m gonna—” and a hiccupping groan as he comes.

Silence descends, until Daichi whispers, “Holy _shit._ ”

“Yeah, I...that sounds about right,” Kuroo sounds _drunk_ , like he was slowly reaching non-legal levels of alcohol in his bloodstream

When he’s rode out his orgasm long enough to consider movement, Bokuto hums, and it has just enough whimper in it, that Kuroo makes apologetic noises before sliding off Bokuto’s softening, oversensitive dick.

He feels the cum inside him shift, and chokes on a laugh. “Damn, you been savin’ up for me, Kou?”

“I can’t help it,” Bokuto pouts, “It just doesn’t feel the same without you guys.”

Kuroo’s face warms, and a content smile dimples one cheek as he turns to drop a tender kiss on Bokuto’s nose. “Lucky us. Now c’mere boys. I require supreme cuddles, with some premier smooches on the side.”

“We should clean up first,” Daichi says, eyeing Kuroo’s public-indecency-charge-inducing skirt.

He makesa fair point, Kuroo thinks. If this shit dries, he’s fairly certain the stains will never come out. Which, yeah, it’s black, whatever, but it’s a nice skirt, and he doesn’t want to feel like he’s walking around in morning-after clothes whenever he wears it.

However, getting up still isn’t a preferable option, not matter the consequences.

“...Hey Dai,” Kuroo says, trying to keep his voice even, but the beginnings of an apology peek out anyway.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” Daichi’s cute when he’s concerned. Kuroo feels bad that it’s for such a dumb reason.

“...Can you rinse the cum out of my skirt.”

The grin Kuroo gets in response makes him feel a little better, because Daichi gets that this is only _kind of_ him being lazy. “Don’t quite have your legs back yet?”

“Mm. I’d just wait and do it myself, but—”

“—You like keeping your nice clothes looking nice,” Bokuto cuts in, smiling like Kuroo is one of the wonders of the universe.

Daichi’s face softens. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll take care of you. Curl up next to Bo; I’ll be right back, and I’ll grab you a makeup wipe while I’m at it.”

Kuroo takes a moment to thank all powers that be for his two ( _two!!_ ) wonderful boyfriends. Feeling extremely pampered, he does just as ordered, dropping his head on Bokuto’s chest, and messing around on his phone to encourage sleep. Bokuto plays with his hair like he always does, trying to get Kuroo’s bedhead even more bedhead-y, before eventually just giving up and running his fingers through it.

Eventually Bokuto’s hand slows in his hair, until Kuroo looks up and sees Bokuto already snoozing against the headboard. The floorboards murmur under Daichi’s weight to signal his return, and Kuroo sits up as slowly as he can to keep from disturbing his Sleeping Beauty. He take the remover wipe, and whispers a ‘thank you’ to Daichi, who drops a kiss on top of his head.

“I threw your skirt in with a load of my laundry, so it should be fine.” The murmur in Daichi’s baritone is enough to send shivers up Kuroo’s spine. _Daichi should do ASMR_ , his post-orgasm stream of consciousness told him, _Pretty voice, pretty face? He’d make a killing_.

“You should make ASMR videos,” Kuroo tells him, still whispering, while getting as much of his makeup off as he can without using a mirror, and uses a clean part of the towelette to mop up the little spot of cum that had managed to dodge his skirt.

Daichi’s hushed giggles are infectious as he sits on the bed next to Kuroo. “Ask me again in the morning. Then we’ll talk.”

Kuroo tosses the used wipe in the general direction of what may or may not be the trash can. “Fine, I guess.”

Daichi kisses him gently a few times before pressing their foreheads together and reaching over to rouse Bokuto enough to get him to scootch under the covers. Daichi makes Kuroo middle spoon, and they fall asleep quickly to the sound of each others breathing.

 

—

 

The next morning, Kuroo wakes to the sound of a Snapchat notification from his phone, half under his pillow from the night before. Blearily, he opens it.

 

**☆Trashbabe Tooru☆**

oh before????

do i get an after (✧ω✧)

 

Kuroo smirks. He’d roll his eyes right now if it didn’t take so much damn effort.

 

**Me**

do you really want one

 

And then decides to snap a picture anyway, getting a perfect shot on the first try. He drops “after” with a few tongue emojis (too tired for creativity and/or variety) in the caption and sends a selfie of him and his adorable sleeping boyfriends off to Oikawa before he can try to stop him.

 

**☆Trashbabe Tooru☆**

not especially

i already know how you and dai-chan and kou-kun do things

Σ(°ロ°|||)︴

tetsu-chan i said NOT ESPECIALLY not PLEASE SEND ME NUDES

 

Kuroo watches as the snap status changes from ‘delivered’ to ‘opened’.

 

**☆Trashbabe Tooru☆**

gross <(￣ ﹌ ￣)>

how dare you send me something so provocative

iwachans innocence is at stake

 

**Me**

you asked for it

right iwaizumi?

 

A new message, but not from Oikawa this time:

 

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

He definitely did.

 

Kuroo snickers, then rolls over and burrows back under the blankets. Bokuto and Daichi shift a bit in their sleep; Bokuto rolls to face Kuroo before snuggling even closer, and Daichi presses his face into the nape of Kuroo’s neck and a broad hand into Kuroo’s waist.

Kuroo can’t help the smile on his face as he lets himself drift back into slumber between his two perfect boys, feeling perfectly safe, warm, and loved.

 

 

 

 


End file.
